Spine-tangling Horror Stories for the Daring minds
by Mar1lyn Man5on
Summary: A group of darn scary stories I got from mixing up a bunch of folk tales, bunch of scary books, and my own already-scary imagination!! R&R and tell me if they're scary enough or they need to be even more freaky!! ;)
1. The Valentine’s Day Massacre

(These tales are dedicated to Grace, even though she prefers Urban legends!)  
  
  
  
The Valentine's Day Massacre  
  
  
  
In the silent night, there could be anything lurking about; creatures of the underground, of hell, cursed things just walking freely, looking for a victim to perish.  
  
It so happened that this story begins, in a night of darkness, in times of hunger and dreadfulness. In the little village, near Paddington, a living nightmare awoke, on the night of Valentine's day. Earlier on the day, a boy, no older than 20, had gone to visit his beloved one, a girl, by the name of Veronica. But what he found when he stepped inside her ragged house was Veronica, with another boy. Veronica fought with the boy, but words didn't seem to work for him. The boy grabbed a near by axe and cut Veronica's face from forehead down horizontally to her right ear. He struggled with the other boy, but the other boy got hit with the other side of the axe; seconds before he died, however, he cursed the killer:  
  
"You damned person! Now, anyone that calls Veronica's name nine times shall be hunted by her presence till she takes his life! Starting by yours!" and died.  
  
The boy walked away from the house and cleaned himself down at the stables. When Veronica's family had found her body and the boy's body, grieve overtook them, and they buried them, along with the correspondent funeral for both youths.  
  
It so happened, that the murderer had attended the funeral, and had passed the time there unknown. When everyone had dispersed from the graves, the boy got closer to Veronica's grave and whispered-  
  
"You perished because you mishandled my love. Now you rot in hell!"  
  
And he kicked dust to her grave. The angel above her grave had witnessed everything. The angel, who had his hands pressed against each other, had very pointy fingers that appeared like claws. His face represented evil itself. This angel played a big role in the killer's deadly future as well.  
  
* * *  
  
That night the boy passed it roughly. He woke up more than three times and he always awoke from a nightmare of a strange figure covered with blood, was choking him. As weird as it sounded the spectral figure was that of a girl's and even though he couldn't make out her face, he could see her angry eyes cry blood. He knew that it was Veronica, but she wasn't really hunting him.  
  
He stood up and went to the kitchen to get some water from the jug. He also washed his face. When he looked up, to get a cloth to dry his face, he saw the reflection of a girl impressed on his mirror. He quickly turned around and saw no one. "Odd" he thought "my mind is always playing tricks on me." And he went back to his bed, praying for a tranquil night's sleep.  
  
Sweat streamed down his face, and his was shaking worse than all the times before put together. He dared to uncover his face from under the blankets, and he opened his mouth to scream in terror, but nothing came out. He was paralyzed and Veronica was standing in front of him. Her ragged black sleek hair was a mess of tangles, and her right side of her face was missing and bloody. She was wrapped around a mist, and she was wearing the gown she was wearing when he killed her. He blinked and Veronica was an inch away from the foot of his bed. He could clearly see her face now, and it was the most gruesome thing he had ever laid eyes on. He could see her broken skull poking from under her tangled black hair, and blood streaming down, nonstop. Her eyes had no color, and she was crying blood; her lips as purple as anything he had ever seen, and her face, ghastly white, with a tint of green around the wound. She represented evil itself…what was going to happen to him? Before he could answer this question, Veronica smiled a deathly smile and she stretched a hand towards him; she grabbed his neck, and he couldn't breathe. She was laughing like mad, and then…he was dead.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, a passing by neighbor, who turned out to be Veronica's neighbor, going to gather some water from the village fountain, passed by the cemetery. He heard a soft rustle of leaves, and in pure curiosity, he peeked about.  
  
Strangely, the first thing that caught his eye, was the boy's grave , the one boy that had died with Veronica. It looked strangely cheerful around there. But then something moving, near Veronica's grave, caught his eye once more. A girl, with black hair, and a white gown, juts like Veronica, was emerging from behind the angel above Veronica's grave. Suddenly she gave bloodcurdling yell, and she was gone.  
  
The man gave a deadly gasp, realizing, too late, who that girl was. It had been Veronica, but the most dreadful thing at that moment, was the body of the killer, being hold by the angel, who had a serene expression. Its eyes were looking up, happily, and its hands were tightly around the boy's neck, while his body was hanging. 


	2. The Cursed Mask

(Dedicated to myself, because I have two home made masks and they're freaking scary!!)  
  
  
  
The Cursed Mask  
  
  
  
The Claremont High School was having its annual field trip and this year they were headed for the Museum of History. No one ever really enjoyed going to the boring Museum of History, except the science geeks (A/N no offense to anyone!!) and the teachers, although some did fall asleep on their feet.  
  
The Museum had gotten a new exhibition on Central American and African masks, and the students were scheduled to see it as well. Just as the group of students huddled around the first set of masks, the guide started his boring blab about their history: how it was created, why, and with what purpose. Strangely, the guide skipped an unusual looking mask; it was made of plain wood, with just one carving on its forehead. The carving looked like a crooked "J". One of the students raised her hand and asked the guide why they had skipped that mask. The guide shivered slightly, and straightened himself. Then he said: "This is a cursed mask, people" in a monotonous voice "it was found in The Amazons, and it had the ticket of killing more then 30 natives in the record of one week." At the sound of this some people laughed, incredulous, and some others gasped. He went on "The Natives were eager to give it away, because of it's cursing existence, and our archeologists were deaf about it's legend; they never believed that this mask could be cursed, or that the curse" he quoted these words with his fingers "could actually kill them. But as they found out, one of them put the mask on and it sucked his eyes and tongue out, and hadn't it been gross enough, it gave him schizophrenia-" But he was interrupted by another boy, who asked how come he died if he was only insane.  
  
"Like I was saying before I got interrupted by corrupted minds" and he shot a look of loath to the boy who had interrupted him before "he got schizophrenic and jumped off from the top of this same building. Now if you will let me, we will explore the other safer masks. Please follow" and he went on with his boring speech.  
  
* * *  
  
One of the students, the first girl who had asked why they skipped that mask, got a click on interest on the mask. She gathered information from around the museum, and looked in books from the gift shop. She got lots of information, except one tiny but important detail: what did the crooked "J" meant!  
  
Finally, she just went and stared at the mask, as if waiting for the mask to tell her. This old frail looking man came up to her and also observed the mask. His eyes narrowed to almost closed slits, and the grunted. Unexpectedly, the man spoke to her, not leaving the sight of the gruesome mask:  
  
"I see you are eager to learn about this mask. If I were in your shoes I wouldn't be so happy to learn. If I must tell, it was my fault the natives got this mask, but I shouted and barked to them to destroy the damned thing, but they thought it could represent one of their gods. Good idea if it hadn't been for the curse it carried. From where and from who came the curse, I don not know. I'm sure you haven't been able to find what that marking" he pointed at the J "means, uh? Kid, if I was you, I'd never wish to know."  
  
"But it sounds so cool though. I'm sure it didn't suck no body's eyes or tongue, and the archeologist probably got bitten by some animal and got crazy."  
  
The man finally looked at her, with piercing eyes. "Kid, this is no ordinary mask. The J stands for Jaldabaoth, the name of the devil! You better stay away from this mask or you'll loose your eyes and tongue too, and will get even more crazy than you are now!" and the man stormed out of the room.  
  
* * *  
  
The girl was even more interested in the mask now, for she had the name of Jaldabaoth, the name of the devil, and she could put some pieces of the puzzle together.  
  
She gathered some books about Latin names, and origins, and even the bible. She looked and looked, but found absolutely nothing that had the name Jaldabaoth in it. Finally she went back to the museum, and she had the plan to turn the mask around to see if anything was written on the back, even a scratch that could give her a clue.  
  
She finally reached the room where the evil mask was resting. It looked empty and malevolent, and there was nobody around. She sighed, and went to get the mask. It felt rarely warm to the touch, and she turned it around. There was one single small carving. It was some sort of lettering. She got a small magnifying glass she had brought, and read the carvings: 'Tertius angelus tuba cecinit, et cecinit de caelos stella magna, ardens tamquan facula'. It was Latin, but she didn't know what it meant, so that didn't help.  
  
The she had the idea… what if she dared to try and put it on? It wouldn't hurt and she wouldn't get her eyes sucked out. But it could happen…not…yes… Finally when her mind stopped discussing, took a sharp breathe and put it on. She felt as if something was gripping tightly to her face, and there was a rush of great winds, and she heard a cold voice laughing and somebody was talking in this weird language. It sounded like some english words were in it…it was talking english backwards! She tried to take it off, but it was completely attached to her face. The she heard it:  
  
"CUM IMPERIO ET AUCTORITATE, PRAECIPIO TIBI, QICUQUE ES, SPIRITUS IMMUNDE, DICAS MIHI NOMEN TUUM!!" It was the same man that had warned her from the mask. She felt someone taking possession of her voice and mind, and suddenly, she, or whatever had taken possession, answered back, in plain english:  
  
"Shut up, you stupid man! No one can destroy me, you hear me! Go away, I will take this girl and by her I will rule the world, and let all the spirits that were conquered out, so revenge and terror will rule this world!"  
  
The man continued talking in Latin, probably trying an exorcism.  
  
WHAM.  
  
The mask, or her, or both, had grabbed the man by his eyeballs and had pulled them out. It was now going to his mouth, and amazingly, but nastily, she (the mask) buried her hand inside his mouth, and reached down, down, and grabbed his heart. The man stopped screaming and fell dead to the floor. The girl, somehow screamed by her own will, not the devil, and fell a piercing pain struck behind her neck.  
  
* * *  
  
By mid morning, the janitor and caretaker came by to sweep, and saw the gruesome sight. The dead man, without eyeballs and his heart next to him, the girl thrown on the floor a couple of feet away from him, blood streaming still from her broken neck. Her nerves and veins had been torn apart, and the mask, translucent and shiny, on its place on the wall, had a thread of blood dripping down to the floor. 


	3. The Diary that told a story

(I had to change some people's name cause Eric got mad at Moi!! *Screams*)  
  
The Diary That Told A Story  
  
  
  
Eric covered his face with his hands, and shook his head in pure laziness. The sunlight gleamed through his bedroom's curtains, and he didn't it enjoy it. He desired to go back to sleep, but now he was wide awake. He looked at his alarm clock and it read 6 a.m.  
  
"Eric!! Wake up lazy boy! Get ready or you'll be left here!" echoed his dad's voice.  
  
Eric grunted, and got up. He opened an eye, and sighed. "Why do I have to go to the stupid camping trip?" he thought to himself "I'd rather be left here!"  
  
After he went to the bathroom and got dressed, in his usual punk clothes, he went down. His dad, mom, and sister were hurrying back and forth, from room to room, packing up last minutes needs, while they ate breakfast. His dad almost broke his neck trying to grab some water bottles from a high shelf. He sighed, and sat down, to eat breakfast, in a rather slow way.  
  
"Eric, you're eating all the strawberry jam!" cried Lizzie his younger sister, while she tried to snatch the jar away, with her arms full of clothes. He snorted, and moved the jam jar an inch away from her sister's reach, and continued eating. His sister squeaked, as she tried to reach for the precious jar, when all the clothes she was carrying fell.  
  
"Eric!! Leave you sister alone and help her with the clothes!" her mom barked from the garage.  
  
"How could she know what was happening if she was in the garage?" asked Eric to his contented sister, as he picked up all the clothes. Lizzie grabbed a spoon and dug it inside the jam jar, as she shrugged. Eric stood up and handed his passing by dad the clothes, and he went upstairs to grab his CD's and his c.d. player. He looked at his guitar and he knew that three days in the wildness without his guitar was going to be a living hell.  
  
"ERIC!! Are you ready yet? Come down, we're about to go!!" came her mom's yell from downstairs. He took a last look at his very comfortable, earthly bedroom, and went down.  
  
  
  
"Mom, are we there yet?" came Lizzie's monotonous voice from behind him. He didn't notice because he was listening to "The Ramones" and was happy enough. Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly, and his mom turned around, and cried with joy "we're here kids!". Eric cried to himself, because he already missed his computer and instant messaging.  
  
When he got out of the car, all that could be seen was a small, wooden cabin, with two windows, and two crooked chairs outside its tiny veranda, and trees; lots of trees. His dad took out the cabin's keys, and handed them to Eric, and he signaled him to open the door. The inside was a smudgy looking at its outside. A moldy looking couch, a table and four chairs, a little coal stove, and further inside, the minuscule kitchen, with another tiny table, and two chairs, and even further inside, the bathroom, and the room where-  
  
"Yes, Eric, you will share the room with your sister, and there's no discussing it." His mom snapped, when Eric groaned that there were two beds in the same room, and that he didn't want to sleep in the same room as his sister. His sister threw him a mocking look, and then put an innocent look when her dad called her.  
  
  
  
It was about 7 p.m. and Eric was looking through the room for the hundredth time. He knew there was nothing to find here, but it was so bloody boring. His parents and sister were outside, with a fire, singing songs. How could they be outside, when they had a stove inside? Guess they were just too excited they were away from humanity. He wasn't, that's all he knew. He stood up, and meant to sit down on the tiny desk, to scribble a little on his sister's notebook, when his knee accidentally bumped with the desk, and something moved under the desk. He looked and saw that a little trap door had opened under the desk. It wasn't fully open though, so he tried to open it with bare hands, but it was no easy task. He went to the kitchen and looked about for a crowbar. He didn't find any, so he took a knife instead. He reached down, and put the knife inside the crack, and pulled the knife outward. The trapdoor gave in, and opened fully. He reached a hand inside and felt a bump. He grabbed it, and took it out. "Ugh" he thought, because both his hand and the bump, (which was a bundle of cloth) were full of dust.  
  
He looked at the bundle, and just when he was about to unroll it, his sister's shrilly voice surprised him. He rapidly put the bundle inside his bag, and then the door opened.  
  
"What are you-ew! Look at your hand Eric! It's so nasty! What have you been doing, cleaning? MOM, Eric was messing around and got my notebook dusty!" and she jerked the notebook from under his elbow.  
  
"Shut up git, you know I would never clean, lest this place" retorted Eric, as he stood up and went to the bathroom, to wash his hands. The he thought of the bundle. He'd open it tonight, when everybody went to sleep.  
  
  
  
He peeked out the door, and made sure that everyone was deep asleep, and then crept outside, with the bundle tight in his hands. He made it for the living room, and closed the sliding door connecting it with the kitchen, so that the light wouldn't wake anybody up.  
  
He sat down on the moldy couch, and began to unwrap the "thing". Finally, he was holding a dusty, leather (small) book. He opened it and saw that it was a diary. He looked in the first page, where a single line read "Property of J. Smith", and then, the writing began. He looked over some pages, and then, found something interesting:  
  
" June 2, 1899, Dear Diary: Today something horrible happened. I found all the members of my family dead, and I don't know where I was last night. I remember so little, it does not fit together. I remember coming out of my bedroom, and seeing the big round moon shining through the kitchen window; then I remember pain like no other, even bigger than the dog bite I got a couple of days before, as you might remember. Next thing I remember was finding myself outside, sleeping next to a tree, under a hillside. Then, when I went back I found all my family dead.  
  
The sheriff came today, and seeing my bite, he thought a common mountain wolf had attacked us all, and that I got knocked over. But I have a feeling I didn't get knocked over by anything. I-I think I killed them! I know it sounds absurd, but if we string the facts together, I didn't get hurt, I was outside safely, and everybody died…I don't know, I think I'm getting sick, but now I'm going to live with Aunt Marge. I despise it too."  
  
Eric had a sudden feeling of being watched, but he shook it off. Then, something outside the window moved. He looked over at it, but saw nothing, and decided it must have been the wind. He continued reading:  
  
"June 12, 1899, Dear Diary: Aunt Marge is a living nightmare, but she got bit today by a dog, or some common animal. Again, I don't know where I was when that happened. All I can picture was us going out by water pipe, and picking up some fresh water. Then, I clutched down, and then, I saw Aunt Marge dead, bleeding by her neck, and Toby, our dog, barking at me.  
  
Uncle George said that Toby must have bumped onto me, and attacked Aunt Marge for some reason. I doubt it. The dog would've never attacked anyone, lest Aunt Marge. I think I killed her too! But every time someone dies, I don't remember anything! What is happening to me?"  
  
Eric had enough of the strange accounts and decided to go to sleep. Then, a picture called his attention. It was an old picture, hanging forgotten, on the wall, behind a curtain. It showed a boy, no older than his age, a woman, probably the boy's mother, and the boy's father. The he realized this boy "J. Smith" must've been the boy of the diary! He yawned, unaware of the time it was, and decided to inspect it tomorrow, with clear day light.  
  
  
  
He had heard it! He heard something slither outside their bedroom. Eric looked at the alarm clock and read 4:56 a.m. Whatever it had been, he hoped it was some bird or some weird forest animal, that would hopefully leave him to sleep. He turned on his bed, and then he heard it again, but it was louder. No, now something was walking outside their bedroom. When he was about to get up, he hear a very loud and near by howl, like that of a dog, or a wolf. It definitely came from the other side of the feeble wooden bedroom door.  
  
He stood up, and looked over at his sister's bed; she was loudly asleep, as usual. He sighed, took a deep breath, and walked right up to the door. Suddenly, the steps stopped, as if whatever was on the other side stood listening. Then, Eric gathered the courage that was back at his bed, wishing it was asleep, and turned the doorknob slowly, and noiselessly. With eyes shut, he completely opened the door; nothing happened, so he opened his right eye.  
  
At first, he thought that what he was seeing was some hallucination, but it wasn't. There, in front of him, stood the exact replica of the boy in the hanging picture; dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and a bleeding wound on the back of his head. He saw this when the boy turned around, and put a hand over the diary…the diary! He had left it there before! J. Smith suddenly thrust the diary backwards, to Eric, and like smoke, disappeared.  
  
Eric, blinking, incredulously from the sight, looked down at the open diary. It was opened on the date of September 23, 1899. He decided to read it since it was a short passage:  
  
"September 23, 1988. Dear Diary: Today, I am going to die. I feel it coming to me, like a shadow. I will die because today, when I went into the forest to gather some wood, I walked right up to the edge of a small cliff, and didn't see it, and I fell. I hit my head with a small rock coming out from the ground, and I feel life leaking out of me. Uncle George can't believe that I can actually write, but sincerely, I have got something important to give notice of. I killed all the people that died. The bite from the wolf affected me somehow, and I am a wolf man! I can't believe it either, but it does not matter any more, for this are the last lines I'll ever write. I wonder how many more people I could hav-" Right there, there was a scribble, a line, which made it seem that he died right when writing that word.  
  
Now it seemed that J. Smith was on the right track when he said that he had killed all those people. He wondered how it felt to change into a wolf. He didn't have to find out any sooner, for suddenly, he turned around, as if something had made him, and saw J. Smith. He looked extremely scary. He had grown fangs, long nails, and lots of hair; his eyes were yellow glowing slits, and he growled. Eric had time for one look outside the window: the full moon.  
  
He took off, not knowing where, and dashed out the door, to the forest. He ran, and ran, and ran, the fierce wolf man behind him. Finally, he took a right turn, and fell down. Down the same cliff J. Smith had fallen years before. He hit solid ground, and before he could even open his eyes, the wolf jumped on him, and his neck was bitten with sharp fangs. Then…he knew no more.  
  
  
  
"Eric? Ugh where is he?" asked Lizzie, seeing the light from the living room lamp. She saw the diary on the coffee table, and then saw the door opened. She shrugged and went back to sleep, not knowing that his brother had been killed by the ghost of a wolf man, and that he was probably coming back. 


	4. The Undying Motherly Love

Undying Motherly Love  
  
  
  
Once, in Russia, there was a married couple, as happy as nobody ever saw. When they walked around their neighborhood, every neighbor was delighted at the happy sight. They could not be in more love. But when the couple found out they were to be parents. The happiness doubled, for that was their wish.  
  
At last, when Anya, the wife, and now mother gave birth to their child, Ivan, the husband and now father couldn't resist his growing happiness. But a cloud of sadness poured its shadow over them. When Anya had taken her first look at her child, she gave her last sigh, and died. Ivan, his heart broken for ever, held his dead wife's cold hand, and cried his heart out. How was he to take care of a child all alone?  
  
Ivan put the finest clothes he could find for her dead wife, when they buried her. His grieve could not be compared. Now the whole village shared his mourning, for they loved the couple's sight, and the child was a gift from heaven.  
  
  
  
Ivan's child was very strange, for at day it cried and wailed like no other, no matter what he did, so he hired a woman to take care of him, Tatiana. When Ivan went to work out in the fields, the old woman would try to take care of the child, but it was too wild. No matter what she gave him or did, the child would scream as if he was in deep pain. But something strange also happened with the child. When night came upon them, it would stop crying, and be as quiet as air, you would think he wasn't there at all. This puzzled the old Tatiana, so one very cold night, she stayed up, sewing Ivan's shirts, in front of the fire.  
  
She was growing very tired, and was soon to fall asleep when suddenly, the room grew too quiet, and very chilly. The woman turned around slowly, and saw that the child was very still, as if listening for something. She stood up and hurried next to the cradle, to see the child. The baby smiled at her and stretched his little hands to her. Then, he realized it was Tatiana, and put a sour face, as if warning that he was about to cry.  
  
Tatiana moved away, and the baby fell quiet again, as if waiting for something. Tatiana sat down again, this time looking towards the cradle. Then, suddenly, the door creaked open, every slowly, and the figure of a woman, wrapped in veils came in. Tatiana covered her mouth to stop a yell, and looked. The woman's veils were dropped over the cradle, and then she heard the baby's delighted yells. After what seemed like ages, the woman stood up, and walked to the door, opened it slowly again, and went out. Tatiana went over to look at the now asleep baby, then she went to the window and opened it. She searched over the snow for some footprints of the rare woman, but there was nothing. Everything was untouched.  
  
The next three nights, the same thing happened, so Tatiana finally decided to tell Ivan.  
  
Ivan, incredulously agreed to stay up, just because the old woman had told him that every single night the same thing happened, and he also wanted to find out how the baby quieted down so. Tatiana and Ivan settled themselves on chairs, looking up to the cradle, facing backwards the fire.  
  
Finally, after midnight, the door opened slowly, and the same figure of the same woman appeared. Ivan was shocked. The woman walked over to the cradle, and poured her veils over it. The baby squeaked delightedly and then quieted down. Ivan gathered courage, and stood over. Since the fire had died away, he grabbed a candle and lighted it. The spell was broken.  
  
When the candle hit with its light the woman, His eyes grew wide when he recognized it was his beloved Anya. He gasped her name as he took a step closer. The baby was resting next to her heart, and she was looking upon Ivan.  
  
Then, Anya stood up, and left the child back in the cradle. She tiptoed back to the door without any word to any of the shocked watchers, and opened the door. Ivan moaned and embraced the baby. But his moan turned into a cry when he discovered that the baby he was holding was dead. 


	5. Veronica

Veronica  
  
-"You won't dare to do it! You will be laughed by the whole school and you will be sour all the rest of your puny life, and just because you won't go to the haunted house! Isn't that amusing?" Laughed Amelié, Isabelle's little sister. Isabelle, or Isa, like her friends and family called her, threw a pillow at her little sister to try to hush her, with no success, for Amelié ran off to tell her mom what Isa had done. The whole deal with the mocking had been because her friends had appointed themselves to go tomorrow to the hunted house, down the street, where Veronica lived. Her story started years and years ago. Veronica, the pretty green eyed girl, the owner of that awesome red hair, the so smart and funny girl, the one who, in 1966 lived down the street from where Isa lives now. Veronica was, of course, one of the most popular girls, cheerleader, and president of The French Club, an A+ student, always with a smile on her freckled face. Many parents thought to themselves how great of a daughter she'd make. She had never made a mistake, and she had never made anything wrong, so her parents had never had a fight with her. She was the envied at her school; the role model to follow to be successful. It so happened that envy, as usual, eats some people alive. There was certain girl, also very smart, also in the French Club, and also a cheerleader, that despised every bit of Veronica; her name was Kate. She also had everything, but the only thing on her way to the top was Veronica. But there was one thing that nobody, except Veronica knew about herself: that Veronica was very spoiled. That was perhaps one of the reasons that made her so selfish and ignorant. She had been nice and innocent, but inside she was sour and even evil. So, on Kate's 16th birthday, she got a car as a present. Now she had what Veronica didn't. That was it for Veronica to start hating Kate. At first she was awful nice, and all she wanted to have was a ride on the car, or the car itself. Finally, after a lot of 'Good-Veronica-Behavior' Kate agreed to give her a ride. Veronica told her to drop her at Kate's house, since they lived so close by. They were just passing the bridge that would take them to their house, and suddenly, Veronica, coldly, said- -"Aw little Kate has everything she wants uh? Well I'll make all that disappear, and when they find us, and take us to the hospital, I'll tell them you suddenly started attacking me, and we went down the bridge, and almost drowned, and then nobody will like you anymore!" And right then, she grabbed the steering wheel and turned it brusquely so that the car lost control and fell down to the river. Kate didn't have time to react and she just yelled for help. Two days later, Kate woke up at the hospital and they informed her that Veronica had died from a deep wound on her head at the instant from hitting the water. Kate had to breathe with a breathing machine because she had suffered a lot of injuries, and she needed that help. At night, just before she fell asleep, she heard somebody at the foot of her bed. She opened her eyes widely to see clearly who it was, and she only saw a blur of white light. -"You think I was going to let you live on when I died?" Suddenly Kate realized that it was Veronica, and she tried to yell, because of how Veronica looked, and because she was going to get revenge for something Kate hadn't done. Veronica was wet, dark as the water, and the blood, pouring out from her wound, was constantly dispersed by the water that surrounded her. Even her ghost preserved the effect of being underwater. She got to the breathing machine and turned it off. Kate started to cough painfully, and tried to breathe, but because of fear she breathed too fast, and the pain was more intense with every breath. Veronica stood watching her die slowly and painfully, until Kate closed her eyes forever. So now, Isa's friends said that Veronica was still at her house, wandering about, and there was a legend that if you said her name three times in front of a mirror, she would appear, just like Bloody Mary. And that was exactly what her friends wanted to do with Isa; dared her to say her name. Isa thought to herself that they were all rumors and that if she did it nothing would happen. So she went.  
  
Isa took a relaxed breath, and then said the evil words- -"Veronica, Veronica, Veronica." Nothing happened.Of course! She opened her eyes, and everybody looked around; Nothing. Oh well it didn't matter it had been funny watching Isa's face sweat of fear. Everybody had looked to the mirror of the living room in the hunted house, but nobody saw anything. Oh well, let's go home then. But Isa had a dreadful feeling that Veronica had heard her, and she didn't know if it was from fear or because Veronica had really heard her. That night, she had abundant nightmares, and she woke up more than a time, because she swore she heard somebody talking to her. Next day at school, she felt tired, she felt scared, and she was really having a bad time. Her friends laughed at her because they said she was having nightmares with Veronica, and that was funny to them. So at Math class, she couldn't help it anymore, and she asked to go to the bathroom. When she entered it, a cold breeze met her. But then again it was winter and the windows were opened. She washed her face, and looked up to see her white face and the purple rings around her tired, red eyes. The she saw it. She opened her mouth in terror, and turned around, but she didn't see anybody. She looked again to the mirror and saw the evil smiling Veronica. But how couldn't she see her when she wasn't looking at the mirror? Then it hit her, that the legend also said that you could not see Veronica without a mirror. So she turned to the mirror, and saw, with a gasp of horror, that Veronica was just a couple of inches away from her. -"Why did you call me, Kate?" And she pushed Isa to the sink, where she got a mortal wound on her head, just like Veronica's. 


End file.
